


for blood & wine are red

by ivermectin



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: A sympathetic reading of the Evans twins, Character Study, Codependency, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Sad, Sibling Incest, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Twincest, despite the title (oscar wilde!!!) there is no wine in this fic, fetus related introspection, remember: it's all dysfunctional, ryan is gay in this btw, their best is admittedly terrible, they're doing their best, weird miscarriage metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26773744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: Ryan and Sharpay aren'tin loveor anything.They're both miserable, and there's nobody else there.
Relationships: Ryan Evans/Sharpay Evans
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	for blood & wine are red

**Author's Note:**

> Read the warnings before reading the fic, that's all I got.

There's an element of resignation to it for Ryan, when the lets himself dwell on it.

He thinks maybe he knew where this was headed, the first time, but he can't remember - who started it, how it began, just the smell of Sharpay's hair and the soft skin of her neck and her hands running through his hair as they held each other, held onto each other like two drowning people who knew that there was nobody else out there who would save them. Sharpay could hold him hard enough to bruise, and she knew better than to try and use a brother as a lover, but it was the other way around, wasn't it; she knew he was hurting and she didn't know how else to help. So that's how it begins, maybe - two children out of depth, and their parents: elsewhere. Their parents, always elsewhere. 

Ryan and Sharpay never really had any friends. 

When he's older and has more perspective he'll understand why. Ever since they were young they were left to their own devices, enough that they built their own world, Sharpay-and-Ryan, a place with dance routines and pirouettes where everybody would always get whatever they wanted. For Sharpay, that was popularity, glory, love, awe and admiration. For Ryan, it was the feeling of being taken care of. A singular space where he was safe. They built themselves a bubble, and there was never room for anyone else. Not that anyone else wanted in, really.

Popularity isn't all it's claimed to be. In many cases, Ryan knows, it's a wedge between a genuine relationship. A barrier. Sharpay and Ryan, in high school, aren't people. They're performers. Their bodies are fluid, they dance and complement each other and walk with rhythm in their steps, one two three, and Sharpay knows what she wants and she fits in, and Ryan lets Sharpay's influence carve out spaces for him to follow. 

It's always been the two of them against the world. 

This is the problem, then; and it's not that he's lacking anything, except guidance from an adult who cares for the right reasons. Their house is too big for just two people. Sharpay knows how he feels; she always has. When they were younger, they used to think it was the twin thing, connecting them, something common in their mind from the fact that they'd never been separated, even before birth. They were roommates in a womb before they were people. Fraternal, neighbours, and sometimes Ryan thinks it's a wonder Fetus Sharpay didn't devour Fetus Ryan whole. A lot of the time he thinks it would've been better for everyone if she had.

So, there's this. Ryan isn't attracted to Sharpay - he doesn't even like _girls_ , and besides, she's his sister - and he knows Sharpay isn't attracted to him. She'll never call him Ducky, she's not like their mother (& what a mother their mother is, syrup sweet and kind and gentle and genuine and hardly there half of the time, she would be perfect if she was there, but she isn't) but Sharpay tries to fill the gaps best she can, which is not very well. 

She knows him, and he knows her. When they were little, they'd shared the bathtub and had baths together - Ryan remembers, the way Sharpay's knees had looked underwater, how the tub felt smaller and therefore safer with both of them huddled together like that. They don't do that anymore, but sometimes Ryan wants to (sometimes, in the swimming pool, they lean into each other, and he thinks it must be nice being a conjoined twin, and then he remembers that in many ways he already is Sharpay's conjoined twin - in every way but physical.)

So, they're not in love or anything. It's just hard, living like this. Invisible or hated by everyone, nobody's priority, only alive onstage, alive when the show's running, and living the rest of their lives ruining their health and stressing out over things that will likely never happen, to them. Money can't make people like you, it can only make people use you, and they both know that, they both have always known that. The things they want, ironically, are things they cannot have solely by virtue of wanting them. Not even through work do they get them. There's an element of luck, and neither of them has ever had much of that.

The loneliness of it hurts, and they both are used to it. Ryan does Sharpay's eyeliner, and Sharpay puts the cap on his head. And when they get home from school, she puts her hands under his shirt, and he puts his hands up her skirt, and it's all routine, none of it even exciting, but he leans into her and puts his head against the soft bit of her neck, and he can smell her shampoo (blueberry) which they bought at the store together and the perfume that she only bought after asking him how he felt about it ("It suits you, sis.") He leans into her like they're both in a womb and he wants to be the vanishing twin, the vanished twin, and for Sharpay to be the twin who survives. He presses his body against hers, lets his hands wander, gets her to lose her breath even as she strokes him with the same rhythm, getting him off more efficiently than she'd ever do herself.

Ryan closes his eyes, lets the sensation of Sharpay surround him. It's the closest thing he has to feeling like he belongs somewhere, and he knows she feels it too. After it's done, as they usually do, there are tissues by the nightstand, their own separate bathrooms to go to, but before that, unlike they usually do, Ryan lets his fingers curl around Sharpay's wrists.

"We're just passing time," he wants to tell her. "One day you'll find someone who will love you as you deserve to be loved." 

But Sharpay, as always, beats him to it. "Nobody knows what it's like, being an Evans twin," she says, and her gaze is melancholy. "Except an Evans twin." 

"It won't always be like this," Ryan says. He isn't sure whether that sentiment is meant to comfort, or if it makes things worse.

Judging by the way Sharpay looks at him, she isn't sure, either.

**Author's Note:**

> *insert dove emoji here*


End file.
